


Little Rooster

by RosaleenBan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan
Summary: In which Castiel unwittingly buys Dean a sex toy. Pure PWP fun. Takes place sometime vaguely in season 5, before episode 5.10.





	Little Rooster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaitea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaitea/gifts).



As long as he had been living with them, Dean had never fully adjusted to the ever-changing rotation of motel alarm clocks.

Bad enough that they were all different – different brightness, sizes, sleep timers. The sounds were the worst though: the blaring _beep_ of one could completely inoculate him to the subtle _buzz_ of the next he encountered. Even years after the Mystery Spot incident, Sam flat out refused to allow him to wake up to the radio when they shared a room, and Dean found he was having a harder and harder time not throwing them out the window every morning.

_Beeeep beeeep BEEEEEEP_

Well, today was the day he was going to break. The damn thing was way too high pitched and grating for 6:30 am. Fuck, he wasn’t even supposed to be _up_ at 6:30 am – he swore he had set it for 8 last night.

**_BEEEEEEEEEEP_ **

Dean stretched out his hand, grabbed the offending object, yanked it from its cord and slammed it down onto the floor, all without opening his eyes.

“Dean, is everything alright? Is there a threat?”

Of _course_ the angel was here. Why wouldn’t he be? Low on mojo and ousted from Heaven, Castiel was spending his time with the Winchesters.  Specifically, spending time watching them sleep. Dean knew without looking that he was sitting in the motel chair, watching him in his sleep, even after he had specifically told Cas not to.

“Everything’s fine, Cas,” Dean said, his sleep-addled voice almost as gruff as the angel’s. “Wake me in two hours.”

He turned over, very carefully _not_ thinking about the angel just a few feet away from him, and went back to sleep.

 

…

 

It was an incident quickly enough forgotten. Between Lucifer on their tail, Michael looking to make him into a meat suit, and them still looking for a way to stop the apocalypse, he didn’t have much time to dwell on minor property damage. And if he dwelled a bit on the angel who witnessed it – well, he wasn’t exactly thinking about his reaction to an alarm clock.

So he was completely taken by surprise a week later when it came up again as he was having breakfast with Castiel. Sam was working a case, dressed up as FBI and talking to the local sheriff.  Dean had to sit this part out, since he had already asked said sheriff his share of questions at a bar last night, and would definitely be caught if he tried to flash a badge. So, he was taking his time over a huge meal, trying to show the angel the glory of breakfast meats.

And in the middle of it all, said angel pushed a small white box across the diner table between them. It was one of those fancy textured cardboard ones, with _Gallus et Mulier_ written in an elegant silver font across the top.

“What’s this?”

“I know you’re having trouble, Dean. In the mornings, waking up. The motel alarm clocks are less than ideal,” Castiel told him somberly.

“Uh, yeah…” Dean said, confused. “I’m not sure I see your point here, buddy.”

Castiel tilted his head, as though he couldn’t fathom how exceptionally strange this whole conversation was. “I've purchased a device I believe you will enjoy. The reviews online were all very favorable.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean said, not sure how he should be reacting.

And how had Cas even _made_ an online purchase?

It was probably better not to ask.

Instead, he straightened himself in his seat, body language certainly broadcasting how uncomfortable he was with the situation, and slowly pulled the lid off the box. He blinked for a moment, trying to process what was inside.

It was _pink_. A girly, bubblegum pink.

It was like a tiny, pink, electronic spatula or something. No more than four inches long, the handle – _???_ – was short and thick compared to the rest of it. The flat part had a few pink buttons, and an LCD screen with the time. A stylized heart was engraved over the screen.

He picked it up gingerly, turning it over to find a micro-USB slot and another, smaller button. He pressed it.

The thing started vibrating in his hand.

He was so surprised, he dropped it back into its box without turning it off.

Apparently Castiel had him covered, because the angel calmly reached over and pressed the button again, stilling the thing. “It’s meant to wake humans more gently than a conventional alarm clock.”

Dean stared at him. Castiel had gotten him a vibrator. Castiel, Angel of the Lord, had gotten Dean a vibrator with a _timer_ , masquerading as an alarm clock.

“Where did you find out about it?” Dean asked carefully.

“An internet forum. They suggested it as a gift for those one cares about,” Castiel explained. “I care about you, Dean. It seemed appropriate.”

Dean choked on the breath he was taking. 

“Uh, thanks,” Dean said, at a loss for any other words. He should really, _really,_ be explaining just how inappropriate this was right now, but how do you tell an angel he just bought you a kinky sex toy? Do angels even know about sex toys? “I’ll – uh, I’ll give it a try.”

Castiel’s beatific smile was both rare and breathtaking – so much so that Dean almost completely forgot why he was so embarrassed just a moment earlier.

Almost. He quickly replaced the top of the box before the waitress saw it, and shoved the whole thing into his pocket. He made a mental note to stash it somewhere safe as soon as they got to the motel room, before Sam got back.

 

…

 

Dean should have forgotten about the _‘alarm clock.’_ Or, the Little Rooster, as he found it was called after a few furtive internet searches. He really should have tossed the thing, or maybe sent it anonymously to the Harvelle’s just to see Ellen’s reaction. They could use the laugh: that was for sure.

Instead, it stayed at the bottom of his duffel bag, hidden among his underthings. Every now and then, when he got out of the shower, or he found that he had a motel room to himself for a while, his fingers would graze against its edges and he thought about taking it out.

Vibes weren’t even his thing, but it was from _Castiel._ How could he not?

It was a full three weeks later when he finally gave in. He and Sam had been forced to take separate rooms at a motel after a deputy had escorted them there in an act of misguided brown-nosing. A couple of FBI partners sharing a room would have drummed up more suspicion than it was worth, especially in such a small, backwards town, so they opted for two.

Castiel was on his own for a while, looking for a way to stop the apocalypse without any of them winding up as either a vessel or dead, so Dean wouldn’t have to worry about that.

With a whole room to himself for the whole night, the siren call of the vibrator was almost impossible to resist.

Dean waited at least until he was headed to bed, just turning the lights off, before he fished the thing out of his bag and pulled it from its box.

He held it for a moment, testing the heft of it, the feel of its smooth, metallic edges. He switched it on curiously, testing the speed and strength of the vibrations.

He could see why someone would want something like this, he realized, feeling the buzzing all the way through to his bones. How it must feel against –

Slowly, he pressed it against his boxers, putting the tip against his quickly-hardening dick, then pulling it away when the sensation proved too much. He took a moment to collect himself, then gingerly lowered it against his shaft.

He sucked in a quick breath, almost coming right there. _That_ was good. Way better than he had anticipated. Maybe vibrators _were_ his thing after all.

Drawing it away, he looked up at the motel door and windows, checking to see that they were tightly closed and locked. Then he stripped off his shirt and boxers before laying naked on top of his comforter. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it right.

He grabbed a bottle of lotion from his duffel and rubbed it over the vibe before running it over his shaft again.

Closing his eyes, he imagined Castiel was the one rubbing it over his veins, teasing him with too much sensation just at the bottom of his head.

“Cas,” he moaned softly, knowing the angel couldn’t hear him like this anymore. He imagined the angel leaning over him, stripped of his trench coat and tie, with his shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal a strong chest covered in dark hair. He’d had sex with men before, but had never fantasized about them like this – only Castiel.

He used his off hand to envelop his dick, then reached down to bring the vibe to his rim, pressing against his hole but not going in. It felt good, but he imagined more. Imagined going in – or a thick, hot dick pressing into him, as clear blue eyes peered down into his soul.

Would Cas do that? Could Cas want to fuck him? Would he prep him himself, or would he rather watch as Dean stretched out his own hole?

The thought of it sent him over the edge. He came hard, striping his chest and stomach with hot cum, Cas’s name on his lips again.

He had just enough sense of mind – and was still silly enough from his orgasm – to program the thing for early the next morning. He grabbed a pair of briefs out of his duffel and slid them on, arranging himself in what he hoped would be an excellent way to wake up.

The next morning, he woke to the soft vibrations on his perineum and hole long before his alarm went off. His hand was around his cock and he was coming again before he even opened his eyes.

 

…

 

It quickly became a habit: Dean started sleeping in briefs, hiding them in longer sleep pants when he shared a room with his brother. He’d arrange the little rooster just before he went to bed, and he’d wake up early, already on the cusp of orgasm.

Dean was quiet about it, and didn’t say Cas’s name anymore, but he was sure as Hell thinking about the angel. Every morning, it completely overwhelmed him, waking up like _that_ because of Cas’s gift. He almost started to think that Castiel had planned it like this – that he bought the damned thing just for this purpose, not as a practical alternative to a normal alarm at all.

 _Damn_ , but he was screwed.

He and Sam had lived in each other’s pockets their whole lives, and it had always been an unspoken thing that sometimes you just had to take care of business. At the very least, if Sam noticed his new morning ritual, he didn’t let it on.

For his part, Castiel was in Israel or something for the better part of a month. It was another three weeks before he joined the Winchesters again, and he didn’t warn them when he was on his way back.

 

…

 

They were at Bobby’s for the week, pouring over lore, looking for something – anything that would point them in the right direction to stop the world from ending. Bobby had two guest rooms, the smaller of which was on its own floor. Dean called that one, so he had his own space pretty far from anyone else for the duration of their stay.

He took advantage of it, sleeping in nothing but his briefs. He would have foregone even that, but for the part they played in his good mornings.

By the third night in, he was aching for something different, though. He stayed up long after Bobby and Sam went to bed, then spread himself out on the guest bed. He left the rooster on the pillow next to his head, then took out a small tube of lube and started to finger himself slowly.

It was Pavlovian by now. As soon as his dick started to get hard, he was thinking of dark hair and crystal blue eyes. He imagined Castiel’s blunt fingertips against his hole, circling him teasingly before pressing in. He imagined that the angel would be gentle, even though Dean preferred a bit of rough play himself sometimes – that he would be insistent not to hurt Dean. He added more fingers, stretching himself the way he liked.

“Mmm, yeah,” he moaned, grabbing the vibe with his off hand and starting to run it up and down his shaft, just like he had that first time. “Yeah, Cas. Like that.”

“Dean?”

Dean froze, eyes still closed.

He hadn’t seen the angel in almost a month, and he certainly wasn’t expecting to see him now.

“Cas?” he asked tentatively, scared to open his eyes.

“Yes, Dean, but I don’t know how you would know that I was in the house.”

“I didn’t –” Dean started, then thought the better of it. “Why are you here?”

“I just got in, and I thought I would wait in the living room until morning, but then I heard you saying my name,” Cas explained calmly. “What are you doing?”

Dean dropped his legs, hiding his ass but not his hard on, and threw his forearm over his face. The vibrator was dropped, forgotten.

Castiel must have seen it thought. “Is that –?”

“Yup,” Dean confessed, wondering if dying wasn’t a good idea after all. Maybe if he gave in to Michael, he’d never have to remember this night ever again.

“And you were using it pleasure yourself?” Castiel pressed.

Dean would have laughed if he wasn’t so mortified. “Yes,” he gritted out, all too aware of how he was corrupting a Holy being. He was going to Hell. Again.

“While thinking about me?” Castiel asked. Because of course he did.

Dean slammed the arm that had been over his face into the bed. “Really? Do you really have to ask?”

“Of course I do,” Castiel told him, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He sat up and looked at the angel for the first time. Castiel’s trench coat was thrown over the desk chair, his tie next to it. He had toed off his shoes and socks – and _wow_ , but barefoot in slacks and a shirt was a good look for him – and was now methodically unbuttoning his shirt. Just like in Dean’s fantasies, the angel didn’t bother with an undershirt.

Dean couldn’t help wondering if he bothered wearing anything under his slacks, either.

“Why?” he choked out, utterly confused and vacillating between utterly humiliated and impossibly turned on.

Castiel stopped at the third button and stepped forward, sitting down on the bed. It was strange that he was still so clothed and Dean so utterly naked.

“I very much want to join you, Dean,” the angel confessed bluntly. “But only if you want _me_ here, and not just an attractive body of the right gender. I’m trying to ascertain if you feel the same way.”

“I – _dammit_ Cas. Who even says shit like that?” Dean blurted out.

Castiel glared at him. “Do. You. Want. _Me_. To. Join. You?” he asked – or demanded.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, trying to process exactly what was going on. “Yes,” he said eventually. “Yes, of course I do.”

Cas graced him with one of those rare, open smiles. “Good,” the angel said, standing up and going to work on stripping off the rest of his shirt.

Dean watched, somewhat dazed, as Cas revealed a strong, tight body covered in thick hair over tan skin. His legs were leaner and more muscular than Dean would have guessed, given what he could see under his trousers, and his dick was large enough to impress Dean even half-hard. Dean fleetingly wondered how it would feel against his lips.

But then he was taken by surprised again when Cas climbed onto the bed and immediately lowered his face to Dean’s. He found himself the recipient of a surprisingly expert kiss from the angel, one with strong lips and an unexpected amount of tongue.

When he finally pulled back, Castiel rested his forehead on Dean’s, panting. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to do that.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Cas gave him a slight half-smile. “Since I gave you that scar,” he said, running his fingers over Dean’s shoulder.

Dean smiled, warming at the thought. It was also a total turn-on – he had gone quickly from embarrassed back to rock hard and ready.

Then, before he could really respond, he felt Castiel’s hands on his legs, brushing up and down them before pushing his knees up to expose him. He ran a hand lazily over Dean’s cock, then made his way behind his balls to play with his entrance. Dean was still stretched out and lubed up, and his body accepted two of Cas’s fingers greedily. It was one of the hottest things Dean had ever experienced.

“Are you ok with this, Dean?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean bit out, pressing down into Cas’s hand, looking for _more._ “Absolutely. Please, Cas.”

Cas lined himself up between Dean’s legs and smiled down at him, not moving his hand from where it was fingering him. “I very much want to have sex with you right now, Dean.”

Dean reached down to take Cas’s cock in his hand, and was surprised to find that he was already hard, his dick dark and hot under Dean’s fingers.

“If you keep that up, I will come,” Cas informed him.

Dean raised an eyebrow.  “Don’t you want me to –”

“No. We can take more time later,” the angel interrupted him. As if to prove his point, he added a third finger to the two already stretching him out, then twisted to find that one spot Dean could never quite reach himself.

“Ahhh – fuck!” Dean hissed, hoping it was quiet enough that the other residents of the house wouldn’t hear. “Alright, just fuck me already,” he snapped at the angel.

Cas’s lips twitched in a way that clearly said that the angel thought he had won something, but Dean was too invested in the proceedings to argue. Instead, he grabbed his knees and maneuvered his legs to hook them over the angel’s shoulders, giving Cas all the access he needed. Cas grabbed the bottle of lube and slicked himself up with one hand, the other still busy driving Dean crazy.

“Come _on_ ,” Dean urged, using one hand to reach down and pull Cas toward him be the hips.

Cas chuckled a little – a strange, gravelly sound that Dean thought he’d probably like a lot more if the angel wasn’t being such a tease. “Ok, Dean,” he said, pulling his fingers away and slowly lining himself up at Dean’s hole. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Goddamit, yes, Cas,” Dean snapped, grabbing at Cas’s hips again.

“Good,” Cas said.

And then he was inside Dean, pushing hot and hard into him in one long, slow movement. Dean hadn’t had this – hadn’t had anyone balls deep in him for ages, and his breath caught in his throat at the feel of it. He started to move, then, fucking Dean with strong, sure strokes. And this was _Cas_ in him, not some random dude he had picked up at the bar. It was –

Mind blowing was what it was, especially once Cas got his dick in his hands at the same time. This was not going to last long.

“Yeah, Cas, like that,” Dean said, covering the angel’s hand with his own and showing him exactly how he liked it. His other hand clutched at the comforter as he vainly searched for some sort of purchase, some grounding. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Dean,” Cas moaned in a rough, half-broken voice that reverberated right through Dean’s core. “Dean – ah – I’m –”

And then he was coming, hot and deep and still bucking against Dean even though there was no way to get deeper, nowhere for him to go. His grip tightened on Dean’s cock as it moved, wrenching the orgasm out of him.

Dean saw stars as he came: stars against a background of black shadow-wings.

Cas pulled out and collapsed onto his chest as soon as Dean let his legs fall to the bed.

“That was quite enjoyable,” the angel said into his chest.

Dean huffed a laugh, still trying to catch his breath. “That’s one word for it,” he agreed.

Cas lifted his head and caught his eyes, holding him in one of those irresistible stares. Like this, pupils blown from arousal, the blue of his eyes seemed even more unworldly than usual. “What other words would you use?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Nothing I can think of right now. My brain is in reset mode.”

Cas opened his mouth to ask another question that Dean didn’t have the brainpower to answer. “I think it’s time for sleep,” he added before angel could speak. Then, as casually as he could muster: “You staying here tonight?”

Cas rolled over and onto his back to lie next to Dean. “If you want me to, I would very much like that.”

“Course I do,” Dean told him.

“Good. I would have been very upset if you sent me away after that, Dean,” Castiel told him. To Dean’s surprise, Cas grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and began to clean him up, wiping the cum from his stomach and chest before it could start to dry there. It was perhaps more intimate a gesture than the sex had been.

Not that Dean thought in those terms. Right now he was thinking in two modes: sex and sleep. And now that he’d had one, he wanted the other.

As soon as Cas stood up to throw out the tissue, Dean arranged himself under the covers and closed his eyes. When Cas came back, after turning off the lights and cleaning himself up, Dean curled up close to him.

He had a thought. “So, did you know what that alarm clock thing was for?” Dean asked sleepily, cuddling close to his angel.

“Hmmm,” Cas answered noncommittally. If he were human, Dean would think he was drifting off to sleep.

But he wasn’t human. “You did,” Dean accused, but he couldn’t muster any heat in his voice.

“I told you it had good reviews,” Cas reminded him gravely.

Dean huffed out another laugh. That was as good an answer as any, he decided. Maybe he would pester the angel about it more in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering exactly what Castiel got for Dean, it was the Little Rooster (http://www.littleroosterstore.com/products/little-rooster). My wonderful friend and beta sent me a link to the Thrillist article on it, and it was quickly decided that this needed to happen. 
> 
> (She did not, by the way, beta this fic. Any mistakes are all mine.)


End file.
